


and into the forest I go

by AdorabloodthirstyKitty



Series: Sapphire: A Fantasy AU [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Death, M/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorabloodthirstyKitty/pseuds/AdorabloodthirstyKitty
Summary: to lose my mind and find my soul - John Muir





	and into the forest I go

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all this was supposed to be for the sunshine project but then it totally got away from me. I wrote a good couple thousand words yesterday in a bit of a rush and didn't look the whole thing over yet so if there's any misspellings/grammatically incorrect bits/goofs that's on me, I'll try to remember to look it over and fix anything I need to when I can. hope you like this thing tho!! it was a labor of love

The forest is dark as they stop their small caravan in a clearing somewhere south of Heathridge, moonlight falling between thick trunks, an endless sea of brown and green. Henrik slows the small cart to a stop, tying the horses to a smaller tree as Chase hops from the back, scanning the surrounding area. It’s quiet but for the sound of crickets and birds, a wolf’s howl echoing from further west.

“Let us collect the firewood, set up camp. We’ll take turns on lookout duty,” Henrik murmurs, coming to stand beside Chase as he, too, takes in the surrounding trees. “I’ll stay nearby to collect wood, you look for food?”

“Sure thing,” Chase replies, still searching the woods, ears still perked. He can’t go too far, no matter how well he can find his way out of any other forest. These woods are cursed, dooming those who stray too far from the path to wander, never to be seen again. Henrik may think he’s being superstitious but he ties a rope to the caravan, wrapping it around his wrist before making his way into the woods in search of food.

It’s name is The Forest of Sacrifice for a reason, and he doesn’t plan on sacrificing himself to the place anytime soon.

He pulls his bow from his back, readying an arrow from the quiver between his shoulder blades as he listens and watches, aware of the coarse rope wound around his wrist, his footfalls cushioned by grass and moss. He listens, and he searches.

A twig snapping to his left sends his head swiveling, eyes straining in the dim in search of the source of the sound, bow up and arrow ready.

His eyes adjust, and he spies the faint form of a deer just visible between the trees. He draws up his bow, pulling back the arrow and widening his stance, eyes locked on his target. He takes a short breath, tightens his hold, and lets the arrow fly.

The sound of the deer’s pained grunt as the arrow embeds itself in her flank is deafening in the quiet of the forest, the doe stumbling before trying to run further north. Chase doesn’t let her get far.

Another arrow later and she’s down, Chase shifting his bow back to it’s place slung over his shoulder as he makes his way toward their dinner. He makes sure she’s dead before hefting the carcass over his shoulder, an arm wrapped securely around her middle as he follows the rope in his hand back to camp.

Henrik already has a decent pile of firewood, a small bundle of twigs and dried leaves beginning to catch fire in the middle of a small pit surrounded by stones. The cleric hunches over the embers, blowing lightly until the fire is more substantial, sitting back on his haunches as he turns toward Chase, shifting the deer carcass on his shoulder as he enters the clearing.

“We’ll have plenty to eat tonight, and we can save whatever’s left for later,” he says, bending down to drop the animal a couple feet away from the fire. Henrik grimaces somewhat, but doesn’t comment as Chase pulls the arrows from her side before pulling the knife from his boot to begin preparing the meat.

“Did you see any water while you were out there? A river or pond?”

“None, though I didn’t go too far in,” Chase replies, eyes on the deep cuts he makes as he sections off portions and cuts, going around bones as he gets as much meat as they can eat tonight, along with what they’ll be able to save in Henrik’s magic satchel.

“We’ll have to search for water soon, the canteens are almost empty.”

Chase nods, still mostly focused on the knife in his hand, Henrik rummaging in his satchel for the Chill Chamber as Chase has dubbed it, an enchanted wooden box that stores their food. He sets it on the ground a bit away from the small mess Chase is making, despite how careful he’s being. They can’t leave anything behind, not only because of the rarity of having more than enough food on this stretch of their journey, but also to keep themselves safe from any predators that may lurk further in the forest. He would hate to attract any wolves or bears that may be further in with the scent of blood.

He makes quick work of sectioning off the meat, storing as much as he can in the box and scooping up the rest, wrapping it in cloth and carrying it toward the cart, setting it down near the fire as he goes to search for any cooking utensils or pots and pans he can find, setting the Chill Chamber near what dry foods they have and grabbing a large jug before heading back toward his traveling companion.

Soon the venison steaks are browning on one of the few pans they have, Henrik poking at it and flipping it a bit too frequently for Chase’s taste as he checks each side, watching intently to make sure the steaks don’t burn. Chase lets him, allowing him to cook as he watches the fire, looking over the small stack of firewood, his feet already carrying him toward the edge of the woods.

“I’m gonna see if I can find any water, fill our canteens.”

“Be careful,” Henrik mutters, focused almost entirely on the steaks sizzling over the fire. Chase nods, heading to the back of the cart where he last saw his canteen, scooping it up from the mess of supplies after trashing the place in search of kitchenware. He heads back over to the good doctor, scooping up his canteen sitting beside him before stopping, looking out into the woods. He listens carefully for any sign of rushing water in any direction, huffing out a frustrated sigh when he hears nothing. He frowns, eyes straining to see anything in the dark amongst the trees before turning back, going to his original place a few feet from the fire to grab the rope still tied to the cart. He ties the other end to his waist, keeping both hands free as he heads north.

He follows the stars.

He’s known these stars as long as he can remember, having watched and studied and lived under them his entire life. His father taught him how to navigate by the stars when he was still very young, showing him constellations and the way home from any direction so long as he followed the pictures they made. They’re familiar, a comfort in the dark, in the unknown. They keep him grounded, following the North Star through the trees, listening and searching for any water source he can find. He has no idea how much time passes as he walks, ears and eyes straining, never straying from his path as he moves further and further into the dark. And finally, after what feels like an eternity, he hears the sound of water running over rock, splashing and trickling to his left.

Soon enough he finally finds the creek, crouching down and filling both canteens, as well as the jug from the back of the caravan. He slings it over his back on the thick strap it’s attached to, pulling one canteen around his neck as he carries the other in his hand. He stands when all three containers are filled to the brim, looking up to find what stars he’s under, a course back if they need more to drink before they set off in the morning. He turns back the way he came, heading east before moving south, back toward the direction of the clearing.

But as he makes his way south, studying the trees standing tall beside him, a sudden chill seems to fall, his steps careful as he listens intently, eyes straining to find the light of the campfire somewhere up ahead.

He walks a good couple dozen feet, eyes straining to find the light of Henrik’s fire ahead of him. He’s only met with darkness, thick and suffocating, eyes darting back up to find the stars. But when he looks up, he frowns, almost stopping completely as he searches for a familiar constellation, or even the North Star. But as he slows, searching desperately above him, he finds that the specks of light above him are unfamiliar, the North Star no longer just above him. He stops, looking around him only to find the same trees, the same terrain, everything looking too similar, too uniform. He swallows, looking to the path his rope makes, pulled taut and curved around a couple trees. He breathes, ignoring the unease still clinging to his heart, and follows it back.

-

He takes the first shift. Henrik is asleep in the caravan, the woods quiet around them but for the occasional owl, the crackling of the fire in front of him. Chase pokes at the dying fire with a stick, standing and moving to what little firewood they have left in the pile. He’ll have to get more soon if he’s going to keep this fire going all night, settling back down beside the firewood as he looks out into the woods.

His mind wanders as he listens to the sounds of the forest, feet outstretched toward the flames. He’s been with Henrik for a good few weeks now, having met him a few towns back. He had been wandering a forest similar to this one in search of a rare plant he needed for a patient, lost and annoyed when Chase offered to get him to the nearest town. The doctor had been skeptical, but had allowed Chase to get him back to civilization after they’d found the flowers he'd been searching for. They’d been together ever since.

Meeting Henrik had been something of a shock to Chase, still remembering clearly the look of shock on his face when he’d found him, an expression mirrored by himself when he looked at the other clearly. They were identical, their skin the same pale shade, the hair cut short on the sides of his face the same ashy brown as his own. Chase had expected that the other was a wizard at first, that he had cast a spell to make himself look just like Chase. But eventually, Chase and Henrik both realized that somehow they had found each other completely by accident, and that they did indeed look almost exactly the same. It was still odd, looking at Henrik and seeing his bright eyes, his thick brows and soft features like a mirror. He wasn’t sure what to think of it, and neither was Henrik, despite casting what spells he could to figure it out.

Chase sighed. It was what they were here for. As soon as Chase met him he knew it wasn’t coincidence, it wasn’t fate. They looked so much alike for a reason, and he was determined to find the cause, as well as any others that looked like them. He had a feeling someone had done it on purpose, making copies of the same person, or different versions with the same face, spread out throughout the world. He had no idea why someone would want to make the same person, or why they had seemingly abandoned Henrik and Chase in different parts of the world to be raised and to grow into their own personalities, their own people. He wanted to believe it was coincidence or chance, but the matching scars above Chase and Henrik’s brows were too coincidental, the little details were too similar to be chance or fate.

Chase sighed. The whole situation was almost too strange to comprehend, and neither of them knew for what purpose they had been created, or born, or shaped, or whatever else. Chase remembered his childhood vividly, the day he got the scar on his forehead, his parents and his life in his parent’s cabin in the forests south of Erith. He had no idea how he could look so much like someone who lived thousands of miles away, or how they had managed to find each other now, but he had a feeling that they may not be the only ones sharing the same face. It was just a matter of finding the others if there were any, and finding out what had caused this, why they were the way they were.

Chase was pulled from his musings when he realized that the forest had gone almost completely silent, the sound of the fire crackling the only noise for a moment before a voice called out somewhere to the east, deep in the forest.

A familiar voice.

Chase’s heart stopped, sitting up immediately as he scanned the trees, dropping the stick in his hand as he stood, his steps slow as he listened as closely as he could.

A scream, high and shrill, sent him sprinting into the forest, bow forgotten, no rope to guide him back. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him in the direction of his daughter’s voice.

The trees were blurs around him as he flew across the uneven terrain of the forest, never faultering as he ran deeper into the woods, calling for his little girl.

“Kaitlyn!” he called, head swiveling wildly as he searched for any sign of his daughter, for dark hair and bright eyes. He heard another scream, louder this time as she called for him, turning to sprint in the direction of her voice.

He slowed to a jog as he finally came to a small clearing, so sure that he had heard her nearby.

“Kaitlyn?” he called again, listening and waiting. His heart was pounding wildly, more from fear than from exertion, though his lungs still screamed for air as he called again for his daughter.

“Kaitlyn!”

Silence.

Chase’s head swiveled sharply as he saw something moving in the trees, the figure deep in the shade of the forest on the other side of the clearing. But even as he stepped forward slowly, calling for his little girl one last time, he knew that the person coming toward him wasn’t her.

The figure was taller, slender and graceful as they seemed to float toward him through the trees. They appeared to be male, about his height, and as they finally stepped into what little light was streaming through the trees above, Chase’s heart thumped hard in his chest, fear crawling up his throat like bile.

He was fae, and he looked just like him.

Before Chase could speak, or run, before he knew what to do the fae was upon him, a hand pale as moonlight wrapped around his throat, eyes the color of emeralds shining out at him far brighter than any human eye. Chase swallowed, looking the fae in the eye as his face inched closer, studying him like an insect, like a meal.

“And who might you be?” he asked, voice a rough whisper as he looked deep into Chase’s eyes, still studying him intently. Chase felt sick, fear making his heart race like a rabbit’s, swallowing again under the fae’s hand still wrapped securely around his neck.

“I’m a traveler, having stopped in the woods to rest for the night,” he replied, voice stronger than he felt. The fae didn’t respond at first, still staring, studying the face that was almost identical to his own. Chase knew that fae were tricky, that he would have to be very careful with the information he gave as he tried to think of a plan. He had no bow, no rope, and no way of finding camp or help unless he got free. For now, he was defenseless, at the mercy of the fae holding him captive.

“And your name, traveler?” the fae asked, his free hand motioning toward Chase. Chase swallowed, thinking quickly, making sure to word his response very carefully.

“You may call me Chase.”

The fae’s brow drew low over bright eyes, obviously displeased. Chase had heard stories of fae tricking men into giving their names, doomed to be controlled or even killed by the other with the answer alone. He thanked whatever gods could hear him that his mother and father had warned him of all the dangers of the forest, magic beings included.

“What brings you to my forest, Chase?” he asked, his hold on his throat shifting as he shifted his weight, cocking a shapely hip as his other arm reached toward him. Chase flinched back, unable to move away as thin fingers with wicked claws came dangerously close to his eyes, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Chase saw the hidden threat clearly as the hand around his throat gave a small squeeze, feeling the prick of sharp nails on the thin skin beneath. He could rip him apart easily with them, could cut his throat faster than strangling him. And despite the fae’s size and slim build, Chase knew he could snap his neck just as easily if he so chose.

“Travel. I was heading east toward Keld, stopped to rest for the night,” he lied, not wanting to give his destination away in case he got out of this alive and the fae thought of following him.

The fae didn’t respond, emerald eyes still boring into Chase’s own, as though looking into his soul. Chase stared right back, praying he didn’t look as scared as he felt as he finally spoke again.

“Where is my little girl?”

The fae’s head ticked to the side, a smile curling across his mouth that showed two rows of incredibly sharp teeth before he spoke, making Chase’s blood go cold.

“She’s not here,” the monster replied with the voice of his daughter, Chase’s hands clenching into fists at his sides in an anger so strong he had to press his nails into the meat of his palms just to keep himself from lashing out, from starting a fight he would surely lose.

He swallowed past the rage warming his blood, past the fear holding his heart captive, nodding his head as he unclenched his fists at his sides.

And that’s when he remembered his knife.

The knife in his boot, tied to his shin where he’d put it back after cutting the venison for their dinner. If he could reach it, he could at least get the upper hand, and hopefully get some distance, or a good slash to the creature’s face. He wouldn’t get far though, with how fast it was. If he drew the knife he’d have to make a substantial cut, and either stun it with a lesser blow or attempt to kill him. His right hand itched to draw the knife but he needed to be careful. One wrong move and he was dead.

“What do you want?” he asked instead, eyes trained on the familiar face just inches from his own, the bright eyes seeming to glow in the dark.

“Can’t a person just want some company?” the fae replied with a smile closer to a smirk, far too many teeth on display. He shifted his weight again, stepping just a bit closer and making Chase’s heart thump just a bit faster in his chest. Chase didn’t reply, watching the creature until it’s smile shifted, an eyebrow rising over electric eyes as his features softened somewhat, stepping just a bit closer, just enough to make the hairs on the back of Chase’s neck stand up.

“It’s not often I get visitors, especially such good looking ones,” the creature all but purred, alarm bells ringing in Chase’s head, his body curling away from the other as much as he could, drawing his legs up as subtly as he could. Maybe if he kicked out at the other and then drew his knife he could make it? His internal panic was interrupted as the fae squeezed his neck again, just enough to catch his attention, another threat.

“Good enough to eat,” he hummed, another wide smile, too wide with too many teeth. Chase swallowed, readying himself as he drew up his legs to kick the fae in the chest.

And then the fae’s arm catches fire, the creature jumping back, letting Chase go as it thrashes and all but howls in pain. Chase doesn’t stop to stare or wonder what the hell happened, immediately turning on his heel and running for the trees.

Only to skid to a stop, almost running straight into Henrik.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass.”

A rift appears, swallowing the fae up and popping him out of existence, somewhere in another plane. Chase immediately turns to pull Henrik away, back toward camp, but the cleric stays put, waiting patiently as he watches the space that once occupied the fae.

“What happened?” he asked, his accent harsher as he glowers at the spot the creature had been in, waiting for him to return.

“I heard my daughter’s voice. He tricked me.”

“He doesn’t have control over you?”

“No. He tried to take my name but he didn’t get it. Henrik we need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Chase frowned, about to argue when the fae popped back into existence, sleeve scorched and blackened and teeth barred in what Chase could only describe as a snarl. Henrik stood tall, glaring the fae down before drawing a familiar weapon from his back.

Chase’s bow.

“Henrik, what are you doing?” Chase hisses, tugging on his arm again. Henrik bats him away, pulling a shining metal arrow from the quiver at his back, drawing it back and aiming straight for the fae’s chest.

“Killing this thing before it kills us. I won’t let it leave this godsforsaken forest if I can help it.”

Chase frowns, studying the arrow, his eyes flying back to the fae that would have killed him, no longer moving. He stares Henrik down, cradling his injured arm close to his chest as he straightens, seemingly waiting for the blow.

Before Henrik can let loose the arrow, Chase grabs the bow, yanking it up and sending the arrow flying up somewhere amongst the branches overhead. Henrik whirls around to face him, dark brows pulled low over bright eyes in a furious glare.

“What the hell are you doing? We need to kill that thing now!”

“No.”

Chase’s heart still pounds in his chest, his arms shaking somewhat as he grabs the bow from Henrik’s hands, pulling it away and settling it over his shoulder as he makes his way toward the other, still clutching his arm. He stops a good few feet away, the fae’s glare vicious as Chase simply studies him across the clearing.

“We’re taking him with us.”

“What?! He almost killed you!” Henrik yells, stalking toward Chase with wide eyes to poke him hard in the chest.

“If we take him he will kill us both, we need to kill him while we can!”

“I’m not killing him when he’s not even fighting back. We need him just as much as we need either one of us, look at him! He’s one of us!”

Henrik turns to glare at the fae, his gaze icy as he turns back to Chase.

“He will never be one of us.”

Before Chase can argue Henrik pulls out his satchel, rummaging around until he finds what he’s looking for. He pulls out a chain as thin as string, tossing it at the other for the enchanted chain to wrap around the fae, holding him in place as he takes the free end and shoves it into Chase’s hands. Chase grips the enchanted chain, holding it tightly as they make their way out of the forest, the fae trudging behind them in silence.

“I pray that you know what you're doing,” Henrik murmurs toward him, leading the way out of the forest and back to their camp, the fire only embers, the cart seemingly untouched. Henrik stalks straight toward the cart, climbing in and rummaging around before coming back with a blanket and a thick book, setting the blanket beside the fire and plopping down, eyeing the fae still held captive by his Chain of Light.

“Tie him to the trees on the opposite side of the clearing. I'll watch him for now.”

“I'm not a fucking dog,” the fae snaps, the first words he's spoken since the clearing.

“No, if you were I would trust you a great deal more,” Henrik quips, opening his book to a marked page before starting to put more kindling over the embers, poking at it as he restarts the fire. Chase sighs, heading across the clearing to tie the end of the chain to a tree. The fae remains silent, glowering as Chase meets his gaze before turning back toward camp, feeling the weight of the creature’s gaze like a brand across his skin.

“Head to bed, Brody. I'll watch over the fae,” Henrik murmurs as Chase moves to sit at the fire.

“Are you sure?”

“I can handle him.”

Chase only nods, looking back toward the fae tugging uselessly at his chains before making his way toward the caravan, his heart oddly heavy as he crawls to the makeshift bed to lay down for the rest of the night.

-

Chase woke to the sound of morning birds, the light filtering through the canvas of the cart warm and soft. It took a moment for the events of the night before to come back to him, but when they did he all but threw himself out of the caravan, stumbling as he stepped out into the clearing. His eyes immediately fell on Henrik, still sitting beside the fire, the blanket folded beside him as he cooked something over the fire. He looked back to the tree he had tied the fae too, finding him sitting on the ground, arms crossed over his knees, expression sullen. The arm Henrik had cast his spell on was wrapped neatly in a large strip of cloth, bright eyes snapping up to watch as Chase walked further into the clearing. He stopped beside the fire, Henrik still poking at a couple small eggs and thin cuts of venison in a pan. He didn't look up, pulling the pan of food away from the flames and setting it aside before addressing him.

“Let us eat and get going, we need to reach Heathridge by tonight if we want a roof to sleep under.”

Chase nodded, letting Henrik dish out two plates overflowing with food before his gaze fell on the fae still tied to the tree, head bowed to rest against his bony knees. Before he knew it he was standing, making his way toward the other even as Henrik tried to protest.

Chase stopped right in front of the other, waiting until the fae sensed his presence and looked up, dark rings under bright eyes and a glower pulling the corners of his mouth down. Chase ignored the look, crouching to sit in front of the other before handing him the plate and fork, the fae’s brows lifting in obvious surprise.

Chase settled back, mirroring the fae's position, knees drawn up with arms resting over them as the fae relaxed somewhat, legs crossing beneath him as he studied the plate before scrutinizing Chase's face. Chase sat back, shrugging his shoulders.

“Just because we’re not on the best terms doesn't mean we'll starve you.”

“... ‘not on the best terms’?” the fae parroted, still looking critical as he looked back to the plate. Chase huffed out a small sigh, taking a small piece of the venison and taking a bite, motioning toward the fae's plate.

“Henrik made that for me, he wouldn't poison it knowing I would eat it.”

The fae still looked skeptical, eyeing the plate.

“If this kills me I'll be pissed,” he muttered, Chase having to hold back a snort of surprised laughter at the remark as the fae grabbed a piece of venison, eyeing it warily before taking a small bite. He sighed at the taste, shoulders slumping as he chewed before taking a huge bite, soon devouring the entire plate.

Chase sat back as the fae cleaned his plate, seeming surprised when he looked up to find Chase still sitting with him as he lowered the empty plate. Chase reached forward, taking the dishes from him without a word before standing and making his way back to Henrik. Henrik watched him approach, eyes falling on the fae, expression darkening before looking back to Chase, spooning food onto his empty plate without a word. Chase thanked him, eating beside him before both of them began clearing the campsite and collecting their belongings, Henrik insistent on leaving as soon as they could.

Soon the caravan was packed, their horses fed and ready for the journey to Heathridge. Chase looked over the clearing one more time, eyes falling on the fae still sitting across the clearing. He met Chase's gaze, expression neutral as Chase made his way toward him to untie him from the tree, taking the chain in hand and walking with him toward the cart.

“We’re heading toward Heathridge today, to stay in an inn if we’re able. It would be awesome if you didn't kill us.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” the fae murmured, silence falling between them as they climbed into the caravan, Chase taking the reins from Henrik who looked ready to protest before Chase cut him off.

“You've been awake for hours, sleep. I can handle the horses.”

“It's not the horses I'm worried about,” he replied, gaze hardening as he looked toward the fae before climbing into the back of the caravan, leaving Chase and the fae to sit up front. Chase ignored the glare the fae shot back toward the cart, sitting beside the fae and snapping the reins, the horses jolting forward at a trot back onto the trail.

They sat in silence, Chase making sure the horses didn't stray from the path, the chain tied securely around Chase's wrist to make sure the fae didn't try to run. He still felt uneasy taking the other prisoner even if he'd been planning on killing him, foot tapping anxiously before tilting his chin toward his companion, eyes still on the road as he spoke.

“What's your name? I really hate referring to you as ‘the fae’.”

The fae doesn't answer for so long that Chase believes he's ignored him before he speaks, voice quiet.

“Anti.”

Chase nods, watching the horses to make sure they're staying on the right track before turning in his seat, one hand releasing the reins to hold out for a shake.

“And you may call me Chase Brody. I'd say it's nice to meet you but that wouldn't exactly be true given how our first meeting went.”

He can't help but grin when he sees Anti's mouth quirk, obviously trying to hold back a smile or laugh. Eventually a pale hand comes up to take Chase's, his touch cool as they shake before withdrawing again.

“How long have you been out here? I’d heard these woods were enchanted but nothing of any fae.”

Anti shrugs, hands clasped to the seat on either side of him as he looks out into the forest around them.

“A while. Not sure how long.”

“You're not much of a talker, are you?”

Anti huffs a sigh, something amused but unhappy, maybe frustrated.

“Haven't had many people to talk to here. You're the first in a while.”

Chase nods, a lapse of silence falling between them again as Chase thinks back to their first encounter.

“Were you really serious, about eating me? That could be why you don't have many people to talk to.”

Anti huffs again, almost smiling. “Only partially. If I can get my hands on something else I'll happily eat it, but there are fewer and fewer animals in these woods. I had little choice."

Chase frowns, his heart sinking despite the way they met, what Anti would have done. He can't imagine what it must have been like, starving and alone.

“Also, do you mind explaining how you and your friend look almost exactly like me?” Anti asked suddenly, eyebrow raised. Chase shrugs.

“We have no idea. I met Henrik by chance a few weeks ago, we've been trying to find anyone else like us that we can, figure it out. We think it would have most likely been a pretty powerful magic user making copies of the same person? But we have no idea who would do it, or why.”

Anti only nodded, eyes staring somewhere far-off before speaking up again.

“Why did you save me? You knew what I could have done to you, what I still could do. I'm a threat to both of you. Why spare me?”

Again, Chase shrugs lightly. “You weren't fighting anymore. You weren't a threat. I'm not going to allow someone to be killed like that. Especially someone like us. You could help us in figuring out what's going on.”

Silence again, but soon Chase continues.

“I don't want anyone to die, if I can help it. I just had a feeling, I couldn't let him do it.”

Anti doesn't respond, the ride quiet as they make their way out of the forest around mid-morning, the sun already climbing high overhead as they make their way toward Heathridge.

-

The ride to Heathridge is blessedly uneventful, Chase and Henrik taking turns steering with Anti at Chase's side throughout. Henrik makes his opinion of the fae very clear, Anti more than happy to stick by Chase on the trip.

Chase understands Henrik’s hesitation toward Anti completely, considering their first meeting. But the hours he spends with the fae, whether retelling stories of the trip he and Henrik have been on or sitting in comfortable silence, are, for the most part, enjoyable. Chase is surprised by how easy it is to sit with Anti as they read, or to tell him about the town's he and Henrik have visited, the places they’ve seen. Anti is almost completely silent for the most part, but seems interested, listening intently while Chase rambles. It's almost pleasant, considering the company, and the day seems to fly by, the sun already low on the horizon as they finally enter the city limits of Heathridge.

Henrik pulls over at an inn further into the city, Anti casting a quick spell to disguise himself to everyone but Chase and Henrik, muttering something about superstitious locals as he pulls on Chase's jacket, swamping his smaller figure somewhat as they both climb out of the cart when Henrik steps out with a set of keys to their room, coming to help haul in all the items they can carry into the room.

As soon as the last of their belongings are in the room Chase flops into one of the two beds, landing on his back with a contented sigh. He can hear Henrik's amused snort, looking up to find the doctor smirking down at him, bright eyes scanning the room and the stacks of chests, bags, and items along the far wall.

"We need to make sure the horses have enough food and water, make a couple repairs on the cart before we go. Do you have any idea of where we're going next?"

Chase nods along, rolling onto his stomach to look over the huge map of the region hung on the wall above their beds as decoration, scanning the towns and areas nearby.

"Keep heading east. We need to go through as many towns, as many places as we can on our way to the city, find anyone we can."

Henrik nods, eyes flitting to Anti with a frown before turning back to Chase.

"I'm going to look into getting the cart fixed. Will you be alright here?"

Chase waves him off, holding back the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Mom."

Henrik huffs, nudging him hard with his foot before turning to grab his coat off a chest of their clothes. "I'll be back in an hour. Don't get killed."

And without another word he's gone, the door shutting firmly behind him.

Chase immediately scoots down the bed until his feet hit the floor, standing and heading straight over to Anti, who stands with his back against the wall leading toward the bathroom. The fae doesn't flinch, though he watches Chase intently as the human gets closer, stopping just in front of him. Chase pauses, looking into his face and giving what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he unties the enchanted chain from Anti's waist, wrapping it around his own wrist and tying it, leaving Anti completely free. The fae looks to Chase with wide eyes, thick brows furrowed in confusion as Chase simply shrugs before heading to the clothing chest to search for pajamas. He pulls out two shirt and two sets of pants, tossing Anti his pajamas before heading to the bathroom to change, leaving Anti to change in the main room.

When Chase comes back into the room Anti stands near the bed Chase had claimed as his own, the sleeves of the long shirt falling over his hands, the pants pooling at the floor around his feet. Chase can't help but smile, flopping back into the bed with a sigh. He hadn't realized how tired he was.

His eyes slide open when nothing else happens, finding Anti still standing near the bed, keeping a respectful distance from Chase's space. Chase waves him over, climbing under the thin blankets and patting the space beside him.

"Come on dude, I don't bite."

"I do," Anti replies, though not in a threatening way. Chase snorts, and Anti sits beside him. Chase should feel afraid, but he's not. Instead he lies down, aware of the fae sitting beside him.

"Good night, Anti."

He closes his eyes, sleep already pulling him under when he hears a quiet reply.

"Good night, Chase."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 2: Forest


End file.
